


don't go bacon my heart (i couldn't if i fried)

by haeni (hanijima)



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-09
Updated: 2016-03-09
Packaged: 2018-05-25 17:19:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6204052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hanijima/pseuds/haeni
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chanyeol has been coming home late recently. It doesn’t help that Baekhyun’s experiencing a creative block.</p>
            </blockquote>





	don't go bacon my heart (i couldn't if i fried)

**Author's Note:**

> i tried experimenting with the narration… and it turned out a bit odd (for me???) anyway, originally written for the baeconandeggs 2015 exchange

Baekhyun wakes up to the click of the front doors and the sound of Chanyeol’s leather shoes being taken off as he stumbles into the apartment. He doesn’t even move from his side of the bed, only glaring at the digital clock that reads eleven forty-five. Baekhyun wonders what Chanyeol even does this late at night, and he belatedly recalls Chanyeol telling him that some Jongin kid from work suddenly vanished from the face of the planet, and Chanyeol has to fill in for him or else his own team won’t make it for their latest project’s due date. _Work, it’s always work_ , Baekhyun assures himself. _What else could it be?_

Chanyeol’s in the bathroom already, Baekhyun can hear him gurgling water and spitting on the sink. When has it come to this? To a low point where Baekhyun waits for Chanyeol like an overeager little puppy waiting to be petted for when its master comes home? It was fun when they were just a few years into their relationship, before Chanyeol started coming home at wee hours in the morning. (There was even a point where his boyfriend spent the night at the office and forgot to text him, and he fell asleep on the kitchen table waiting for Chanyeol’s sorry ass to come home. It had been their only fight so far, and he prays it would be their last.)

It’s been a week and a half since Baekhyun’s fallen asleep waiting for him again. Hell, the number of times Chanyeol forgets to text him when he’ll come home is gradually increasing, and Baekhyun’s almost tempted to tack a note on his boyfriend’s forehead to fucking remind him. _Almost_.

But it’s for work, and Chanyeol likes his work so Baekhyun can’t really complain much. Especially when Chanyeol endures the paint splattered room that is supposed to be their living room, smiling widely at guests and friends who make a little comment about it. (“Baekhyunnie likes painting, and sometimes it gets out of hand. I like it though; it represents him as an artist and as a person.” Baekhyun punches him when no one is looking, just as he deserves, but Chanyeol patiently kisses the pout away. “Always so messy, Baekhyunnie.”) And it does no good to him thinking about Chanyeol cheating on him. The giant oaf’s never been good at hiding things from him, always too honest and willing to indulge on Baekhyun’s wishes. Chanyeol would never.

Baekhyun freezes when he feels the bed dip under Chanyeol’s weight. Chanyeol climbs under the covers and wraps his bare arms around Baekhyun’s middle and spoons him closer, nuzzling into Baekhyun’s neck. Chanyeol’s breath against his ear smells like mint and a few hints of coffee. “Hey.”

“Did I wake you?”

“It’s okay. I’m used to your elephant steps, it makes you easier to detect when you sneak up on me,” he says sleepily, pressing a hand over Chanyeol’s. “Do you want kimchi tomorrow? I could pack some for lunch and dinner, too.” 

“You’re going to cook? Why? What’s the occasion?” 

“Burning the Apartment Down Day. It’s quite a thrilling event made only for me, if I might say so.” Baekhyun feels his laugh against his ear now, low and tired, although still clearly amused. He smiles a little at the warmth he feels now that Chanyeol’s lying next to him, a familiar kind of warmth he misses every day when he’s sitting alone on the paint splattered newspaper on the floor. It gets worse when the heater breaks down and it’s raining cats and dogs outside, so lonely and so fucking cold. 

There was even a day last week where Baekhyun didn’t know what the hell to paint, and he stared at a blank canvas. It was horrible; he sat there unmoving for three hours straight that his muscles ached until he had trouble standing up. Chanyeol’s hugs always made him feel better, the way he fits into the mold that is Chanyeol’s body. Now that Chanyeol’s with him, it’s enough, a small confirmation that they belong together. That everything is okay. Everything’s okay.

“I would love anything you cook. As long as it still looks like food and is edible. Oh, oh, remember that pecan pie disaster?”

“Rude! That was not a disaster, it was good!” He turns around and sees Chanyeol wearing one of his many black tank tops with the low hanging front courtesy of a Zhang Yixing from down the hall. “You take that back right now, Park Chanyeol!”

And it feels like college all over again, where they’d cuddle after exams until Baekhyun’s roommate, Jongdae, kicks them out for committing PDA, complaining that they’re “rubbing it in his face and ruining his life ‘cause he’s single but is still the hottest piece of ass anyone has ever lain eyes on”. And like in college, Chanyeol looks like shit with the dark circles under his eyes; Baekhyun’s not going to lie about that. He’s still hot, and very Chanyeol. And very much _his_.

“It tasted like stale bread doused with too much flour and tears. I couldn’t even taste the pecan through all the whip cream you put in.” Chanyeol’s grin doesn’t disappear even though his eyes are closed. If Baekhyun weren’t a bit irritated with him he’d kiss him and maybe they’d have sex but Chanyeol has work tomorrow and tiring him out isn’t something Baekhyun would subject him to. “I’m not even sure whip cream was a necessary ingredient.”

“Wow, thanks for the support, Park.”

“Anytime.” Chanyeol slots their limbs together comfortably that he has Baekhyun’s head under his chin, their feet tangled under the warm comforter.

“Good night you oaf,” Baekhyun grunts, he’s definitely going to ruin Chanyeol’s life one day, maybe put salt in his coffee instead of sugar just because he feels like doing so.

He could put it off for a few days, as long as Chanyel’s home now, in the same bed and under the same covers as him. He would wait forever for Chanyeol if he has to. But _god, please don’t make me wait forever_.

“I love you just as much, maybe even more, my Baekhyun.” He would, but maybe he couldn’t.

 

Baekhyun wakes up to an empty bed save for the note in Chanyeol’s neat writing. _“good morning! didn’t wanna wake you up so i just reheated last night’s dinner for lunch. i’ll be back early tonight!”_

“Ugh,” he groans, cocooning himself with the comforter. “Stupid Park Chanyeol.”

 

“I have better things to do than sit with you for hours, is what Kyungsoo said to me. That’s why you’re here,” Baekhyun cuts him off before he could ask, offering him a cup of Americano. That stops Jongdae from whining.

“Well, that’s offensive. But I expect nothing less from you. You’re very lucky I’m free today. What do you wanna talk about?”

“Do you want kimchi? I think I made too much for me to eat.”

Jongdae raises an eyebrow at him, “Doesn’t Chanyeol usually wolf down your cooking no matter how alive it is?” He does. Chanyeol’s sweet like that, despite throwing in a few harmless remarks.

“Usually,” he pushes three stacked containers towards Jongdae, all filled with kimchi . “I would give some to Kyungsoo but that kid’s got more kimchi than half this town combined. With spaghetti.”

“I’ll share the pain with Junmyeon, then.”

“You’re still living in his apartment? You free loader.”

“Am not! I’m his flat mate! I pay half the rent, and I pay for our dinner… every Saturday. But that’s not why we’re here, are we?”

“I’m just bored, really, and very uncreative. I haven’t painted or done anything art related and Chanyeol’s still coming home late. I don’t know how to pull my life together. My hands and feet are itching to do something—something productive,” Baekhyun sighs. The last time he purposely set up a coffee date with his friends was the time he and Chanyeol fought. It seems like a shitty thing to do, but most of his friends are busy working or studying, like Junmyeon who’s still studying despite being a professor in SU. He waits for them to have time or for them to ask him out; he’s the only one with a flexible schedule.

“You’re sex deprived, most likely. Therefore, you are unproductive. It’s normal for men in their fifty’s to—“

“Shut up. I’m not fifty, for Pete’s sake. And it’s not like that. I’m just—there’s something about … I can’t explain it right. I get this idea in my head, and I can’t get it out. Well, not properly. I’m fucked.”

Jongdae sneers, an all knowing smirk plastered on his face. “Correction, you’re in need of a fucking.”

“Can you lower your voice down? You’re like a booming system for fuck’s sake.”

“How about getting a job?”

“A job? Being an artist is a job.”

“How’s that going for you?” A long stretch of silence befalls them, only breaking when Jongdae stands up to order another cup of coffee. When he comes back with two, Baekhyun stares him down until he apologizes. “Look, you need something to do. Get your mind off things. Art isn’t helping you at the moment, so find some other refuge. Work your ass off, try something different. There’s no harm to that.”

Jongdae’s right. He does need to lay off of pressuring himself to draw or paint. 

He thinks about it on the way home, buying a bunch of newspapers dated from three days ago to the recent ones.

“I have something for you!” Chanyeol bursts into the living room like it’s not fucking one in the morning, like it’s some time in midday. Their neighbor’s going to hiss at Baekhyun tomorrow morning when he’s collecting the mail (for a man in his early twenties, he sure is grumpy). “What are you doing?”

Baekhyun looks at him tiredly. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

Chanyeol hums a bit before answering. “Art.”

“Close enough. I’m sorting out newspaper clippings for jobs I might apply for. Here’s the pile of ‘no’s,” he gestures to a ridiculously large heap, maybe three inches tall. “And I only have three ads for maybe.”

Chanyeol plucks an article from the maybe heap. “Nude model for local art class, 25$ per hour, must be very still.” He shoots Baekhyun an incredulous look. Baekhyun scoots over to make room for Chanyeol on the newspaper littered floor. “You can’t sit still for even five minutes, and you’re considering this?”

“I look good,” is all the argument Baekhyun throws at him. He’s uncharacteristically meek under Chanyeol’s watchful eyes. “I want to do something.” 

“How about applying to be an art teacher? You said you’ve always wanted to share your thoughts on how the Mona Lisa could’ve been improved. For one, her eyebrows could use some filling in.” 

Baekhyun leans in to the warmth Chanyeol’s body offers. Why the hell is Chanyeol so warm when he’s only wearing two layers of clothes and is facing a negative two degrees weather outside? “They’d take me as a makeup connoisseur than an art teacher, plus shaving eyebrows was a thing back then.”

“Doesn’t mean it’s a good thing,” Baekhyun sits in silence, pulling his thoughts together to form a coherent response. He’s tired. Very tired. “Hey, Baek. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Just over thinking, as usual.”

“What have you been thinking about? You could tell me, you know? You’ve been acting down lately, and if it’s about me coming home late, then I swear we’re almost done. So would you smile for me, my beautiful Baekhyun?”

Chanyeol wraps his arms around Baekhyun and rests his chin on this shoulder. It’s pretty confusing why his heart is beating so fast at that moment, like it’s about to burst. He’s not some high school kid anymore, and they’ve done far more adulterated things than hugging. Maybe he just misses Chanyeol, very, very much.

Baekhyun sighs, standing up. “I’m tired, that’s all. I’m going to bed, okay? Clean up so you could come and maybe cuddle with me to sleep. I won’t promise I’d be awake by the time you get out of the bathroom.” 

“I feel so oppressed.”

“You should be. You left without waking me, you prick,” he says before slamming the bedroom door shut in Chanyeol’s face.

 

Baekhyun doesn’t end up applying for any of the jobs. He’s missed the deadline for the nude painting, and a lot of technicalities came up with the other two he considered. He wills another day away in the coldness of the living room.

He picks up a book sometime around two in the afternoon, but he barely finishes a page until he falls asleep on the couch. He doesn’t dream of anything, and that’s why he’s in a daze when his phone beeps by seven, when the sun is already set. He skips dinner, opting to gulp down a few glasses of water and sleeping again until morning, or whenever, preferably never.

He doesn’t wake when Chanyeol slips in, slotting his limbs perfectly with Baekhyun’s. He doesn’t even stir or grumble when Chanyeol kisses him goodnight as he’s fast asleep and dreaming of nothing in particular.

 

 

Baekhyun’s staring at the blank canvas that’s perched against the paint splattered wall. He double checks the newspaper underneath the easel before testing out the acrylic and oil paint on his palette. Baekhyun’s prepared everything. It’s a sunny day outside the window, not many clouds outside, and he’s wearing old clothes he uses for painting. (“Aprons are so weird. It doesn’t even prevent messes from your upper chest or your elbows.”)

A few minutes passes. Thirty minutes. An hour. An hour and a half.

It’s back, Baekhyun hisses. It’s that insufferable feeling of creativity overflowing in Baekhyun’s mind but it won’t reach his hands, his finger tips, to unleash it on the blankness in front of him. 

A line that curves on the corner of the canvas, but it’s blue. Overlapping with the line, halfway is… is… there’s something… something… _Fuck._

He collapses on the floor, throwing the palette far away from himself. His temples are throbbing and pounding, reminding him of his failure as an artist. A stupid artist that couldn’t even think of a design, mind completely blank as the canvas.

Baekhyun wakes up an hour before midnight, his cheeks dried of tears and his back aching from lying on the cold floor. 

He doesn’t even remember crying.

The lights are still off and the window open and blowing cold wind into the apartment. Baekhyun doesn’t move when Chanyeol walks in and panics when he sees him on the floor, still in his painting clothes.

"Baekhyun?” Chanyeol calls tentatively. When Baekhyun doesn’t answer he jumps, or so Baekhyun thinks. “Baekhyun, are you okay?" Chanyeol gathers him up in his large and lanky arms and carries him to their bedroom. Baekhyun probably dropped his brush along the way, his hands feeling empty and numb like his brain.

"Shit, Baekhyun. You just can't freak me out like this." Chanyeol says but everything is a blur to Baekhyun. He can't hear the hysteria in Chanyeol's words as he angrily shucks off his coat and shoes and joins Baekhyun on the bed. Baekhyun feels cold and his lips are dry and Chanyeol feels too warm against him. Too…warm…

"Baekhyun, talk to me." Chanyeol cups his face and presses a soft kiss on his chapped lips. He feels warm tears flowing from his eyes, and he's sobbing again, regaining control over his body and the first thing Baekhyun does is wipe the tears away. "I'm sorry, so sorry Yeol."

"It’s okay, don’t worry. I’m here," Chanyeol says and presses him against his chest. Chanyeol's heartbeats are loud and clear to Baekhyun. Oh, how he worried Chanyeol. He's so pathetic. "Baekhyun just don't.... Don't stress yourself out too much, please?"

"I—"

Chanyeol cuts him off. "No. No half-assed promises this time. This happened last time, and there will be no third time. We don’t want to let that happen under any conditions." Chanyeol's voice is soft and how it rings with threatening finality is beneath Baekhyun. 

"I'll try." Baekhyun calms down, stifling his sobs into sniffles. "It’s that… I couldn't do it again, Yeol." He says, "I... I had it, the thought, the outcome, _everything_. But it didn't flow out of me, my hands couldn't do it. Why am I so inadequate?"

He feels Chanyeol’s pout against the back of his neck. “You're not inadequate, you're the best. Don't ever think that. It's not your day today. There's always tomorrow, Baekhyun."

"But what if tomorrow doesn't come for me?"

Chanyeol turns Baekhyun around to look at him, contemplating on whether he wants to kiss Baekhyun or wipe away the sad with his smile. He decides to do both. “I love you, Baekhyun.”

Chanyeol’s words make his heart skip the oddest of times. With just those four words, Baekhyun’s world is already infinitely better. Chanyeol makes everything better, even though sometimes he doesn’t; he finds a way to make it so. 

And a stupid kiss from him makes everything better by tenfold.

He wants Chanyeol’s touch, his warm fingers and palms and hands on him. He misses Chanyeol like he’s a fish out of water and Chanyeol is his water, something he desperately needs or he’ll die. 

Cupping the taller one’s face with his hands, Baekhyun tilts his head to kiss him. Chanyeol doesn’t seem surprised; he slides a hand under Baekhyun’s paint splattered shirt, easing him out of it. Baekhyun gets the signal and stops kissing him, stops licking every nook and crevice of Chanyeol’s mouth because he may have been kissing Chanyeol every day of the past month, but it was never like this. He’s _aching_ for Chanyeol; it physically hurts, like the urge to scratch an itch you can’t reach when it’s just _there_.

They both undress, shedding their clothes and undergarments in a silent hurry. Chanyeol finishes first, and he wraps his arms around Baekhyun, encasing him protectively. “I’m sorry,” Chanyeol trails soft butterfly kisses from the back of his ear down to Baekhyun’s spine. “I’m really sorry for making you feel neglected.”

Baekhyun’s breath catches when Chanyeol presses a thigh between his legs, insistently nudging. He takes the opportunity to suck on Baekhyun’s neck, hands touching lower and lower but not where Baekhyun wants them. “I never said anything like that. It’s me, it’s this thing. Not you. Hey… what are you doing?” He demands, rutting against the thigh between his legs. 

“I’m mapping you out, just like the first time.” Chanyeol turns Baekhyun around and he takes the opportunity to slide his tongue down Baekhyun’s chest, never forgetting to leave sloppy kisses every now and then. “I’m going to make you feel good, going to make love to you, going to make you know how loved you are,” Chanyeol all but purrs. 

Baekhyun gushes at the thought of Chanyeol’s dick pressing and stretching him open. It’s not like they’ve never fucked before, memories of Chanyeol pressing him flat on the kitchen table still fresh in his brain even if it was months ago.

“I don’t…” he says, but locks his arms around Chanyeol’s neck anyway to encourage him to continue, playing with the short strands at the back of his head. 

“You clearly need this, as much as I do,” Chanyeol smiles, he’s between his legs now, teasingly licking at the slit of his cock. Baekhyun doesn’t know that Chanyeol’s waiting for permission, with the lust blown state he’s in right now all he’s thinking about was how he missed Chanyeol’s warm mouth around his cock. “Baekhyun?”

“What?” He opens his eyes (he doesn’t even recall shutting them tight) to see Chanyeol watching him intently, tongue poking out of his lips. Chanyeol shakes his head and presses a gentle kiss on Baekhyun’s hips before wrapping his mouth around Baekhyun’s length. 

The grip Baekhyun has on the other’s hair tightens as he tries not to thrust into Chanyeol’s rapid bobbing. Within minutes, Baekhyun bites back a half scream when Chanyeol stops completely, but doesn’t remove himself. He looks at Baekhyun underneath his eyelashes, a smirk almost forming. “Why are you—why are you like this?” Chanyeol twirls his tongue on the underside of Baekhyun’s length. “Ah, I thought you wanted to make me feel good?”

“I wanted to make love to you,” Chanyeol says breathlessly laughing. “You know, stick my thing into your thing?”

“That’s so offensive. That’s not how you make love to someone.”

“Then educate me, teach me. Tell me what you want, and I’ll deliver.”

Sucking in a breath, Baekhyun makes a blind grab for the lube under the pillow. “Finger fuck me before you stick that thing in.”

Chanyeol does as he’s told. He dribbles lube on his fingers, inching a digit past the ring of muscle, reveling at the sounds Baekhyun makes, his cutoff moans filling the room. When he’s in knuckle deep, Chanyeol pulls out, rapidly before joining in a second one. He takes turns alternately from pushing in deep and crooking his fingers until Baekhyun feels he’s close, so close. Chanyeol probably knows he’s close with all the thrashing and twitching, and maybe the gradually increasing moaning is giving it away, so he stops and removes his fingers from Baekhyun’s ass. 

He aligns himself with Baekhyun’s entrance, teasing, making soft circle patterns before pushing it in in one go. Baekhyun’s hands scramble to find anything to hold on too, and the sheets are not giving him any purchase, so he reaches for Chanyeol’s upper arms. 

He fucks into Baekhyun slowly. And Baekhyun lets him, doesn’t complain. Because after the long while of cold rooms and blank canvases, his gentleness and care brings Baekhyun together. Like some sort of glue, as weird as that sounds. Chanyeol maintains the pace he’s at, thrusting long and deep, into Baekhyun. The spurts and erratic twitching of his hips doesn’t deter him from the pace he’s going at.   
Baekhyun comes first, muffled groans as Chanyeol kisses him. He follows soon after, spilling on Baekhyun’s tummy, their come sticky and gross on Baekhyun’s tummy.   
Chanyeol stands up. To get a towel, probably. He feels Chanyeol’s grin against his cheek, giving him a close-mouthed kiss before wiping him clean and hugging him tight. Baekhyun wants to argue like he always does, because they’re both sweaty and gross, still. It doesn't happen, lethargy pulling him in to dreamless slumber.

 

Baekhyun wakes up, feeling a soft pressure on his forehead. Chanyeol’s morning grin comes into view, and Baekhyun mimics it all while rubbing sleep away from his eyes. “Good morning.”

“Mornin’. Why are you up,” Baekhyun sneaks a glance at the clocks, and it reads 8:33 am, “so early, but so late for work?”

Chanyeol pulls him closer and his breath reeks. Baekhyun swears at him but laughs just the same. “The project’s done. I figured I should take a day of two off.”

“For real? That’s great, Chanyeol!” Baekhyun sits up, giddily bouncing on the bed. “We need to celebrate! How does pancake and coffee sound? Or do you prefer bacon and eggs?” Baekhyun just made a joke, and he’s not too aware of it even as Chanyeol blatantly laughs at his face. He tugs Baekhyun back into his arms and presses butterfly kisses down the column of Baekhyun’s neck and cheeks. There’s a few marks bruising from last night, and Baekhyun feels something coil in his guts when Chanyeol brushes his lips against a few of them.

He half –heartedly pushes Chanyeol away also because he’s still got morning breath and so does Chanyeol and they’re kissing. It’s supposed to be gross. 

“That can wait. I just want to cuddle and maybe catch up with you. You’ve been stressed lately.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing, okay? It’s not your fault. I’m going to stop spending most of my days at work. As a good boyfriend I should never leave my Baekhyunnie alone. Ever.”

“I want waffles for breakfast,” he tries to divert the topic. He can’t stop blaming himself for what he can and cannot do. Maybe he can try to stop, but not yet. Anyway, Chanyeol makes the best cinnamon-Belgian waffles Baekhyun has ever tasted. He’s going to enjoy messing with him in the kitchen today. _After_ his coffee.

“Don’t run away from this, Baekhyunnie.”

“I’m not. I promised, and you’re with me, so it’s going to be really okay now.” _I hope_.

Chanyeol doesn’t look convinced. He buries his face into Baekhyun’s neck and whispers things. “I love you, my Baekhyunnie.”

“I love your waffles, Park,” he half-groans, half-chuckles into Chanyeol’s hair. “Get up and let’s eat.”

Chanyeol squirms in his place, poking Baekhyun’s side a few times before getting up. Before Chanyeol leaves the bed, he leans down and kisses him on the forehead again. “I love you most, really.”

“Not as much as I love you, you sap,” Baekhyun swats him away. “Don’t forget to brush your teeth, you smell like rotten milk.”

“Ah, but my Baekhyun, you kiss me all the same.”

 

 

“Would you believe me if I told you that I fell in love in the most stupid way possible?”

“Let me guess, you brought home a cutie patootie and fucked ‘em over a table and realized you liked them and developed an insatiable thirst for their ass but next morning you woke up and got robbed. No heart. No money left. Nada.” Jongdae’s tongue is sharper when he’s four shots of tequila in, if he downs a fifth, he’s going to start dancing (read: rutting mindlessly) with random strangers on the dance floor. His sixth shot usually ends him vomiting on the floor and passing out. Baekhyun hopes he passes out on his vomit for being a little shit that he is.

“Who even let you talk, Jongdae? Do you kiss your boyfriend with that potty mouth of yours? Disgusting.” Baekhyun rolls his sleeves up and leans on Chanyeol, who’s having a pleasant conversation with Junmyeon about their work. Chanyeol’s finally done with the project and he’s taken a few days off, and Baekhyun calls to celebrate at the club they usually frequent back in college. Baekhyun forgot to invite Jongdae (or did he) but when you ask for Junmyeon, Jongdae’s a plus one, no matter where. No questions asked. (“Junmyeon hyung is definitely smitten with Jongdae, I pray for him sometimes.”) Kyungsoo is with them too, and surprisingly he finally brought his cute boyfriend with him. (“He needs to know your face first before I ask him to assassinate you and bury you in your front lawn.” Kyungsoo’s nonchalance at saying those words may seem nonthreatening, but he means it.)

“Kyungsoo, we live in an apartment in the city. And frankly, Jongin doesn’t look like he could hurt a fly,” Chanyeol laughs, and Kyungsoo mumbles a “that’s where you’re wrong” into his glass of apple cider.)

“He’s single, has been for quite a long time. Why do you keep forgetting?” Kyungsoo says matter-of-factly.

“Excuse me, I am a hundred percent sure the corners of my lips are tantalizing enough that I can lure in anyone I want in my bed. It just so happen that I have no interest to do so.” 

“I call bullshit.” Baekhyun slams his bottle on the table, and Chanyeol turns to look at them curiously. “That’s what you said in college when you lost a bet trying to pickup that foreign student. He really sassed you good.”

“You still have pretty lips. Don’t sweat it, Jongdae.” Junmyeon says with a charming smile that leaves Jongdae furiously blushing. Baekhyun bursts out in a fit of laughter. Junmyeon is so sweet and so blunt, the perfect tool to shut Jongdae’s mouth. 

“Can we not talk about my lips, it’s like you all want to make out with me or something. I probably would, with Junmyeon that is.” Junmyeon’s smile freezes, and Chanyeol pats him on his back, holding back his laughter. Jongdae lets his cheek rest on the cold table, and Baekhyun is not sure if Jongdae’s unaware of what he said or unaware that Junmyeon is listening. “Taken people don’t sit well with my conscience.” 

“So how did that happen?” Jongin continues their previous conversation, looking at Baekhyun intently.

“What did?”

“You falling in love in the most stupid way.”

Baekhyun grins, recalling the time he accidentally doused hot coffee on the guy. He was late for class and the poor guy was unfortunately in Baekhyun’s way. “Ah, I loved him the moment I laid my eyes on him.” 

“How’s that a bad thing? It’s romantic. As a writer, I vouch my writing career on this. That’s one way to bait in readers.” Jongin scribbles something on a small notebook he brought with him. Kyungsoo leans over and traces some words on it, smirking to himself. It’s probably a horror thriller or something. Kyungsoo probably helps out on planning the murders in the story.

“In real life, it isn’t. Falling in love like that is… first impressions are utter bullshit. You have to know the person first because if you loved them the first time you saw them, you’d most likely love them even though you know they skins puppies alive.”

“Didn’t you fall for Chanyeol like that? You quite literally tripped in the cafeteria, and Chanyeol swooped in and bought you lunch after you poured hot coffee over his crotch.” Kyungsoo says loudly. Jongdae stirs and lifts up his head, to make what seems like a snarky comment too but it sounded gibberish and drowned out with the club music blaring. “You looked ridiculously taken aback that time.”

“Yeah, okay, okay. I deeply resent it, though.”

“What are you talking about, what do you mean I skin puppies alive? Stop making stuff up and scaring the kid.” Chanyeol joins in the conversation, finally done talking business or science or whatever with Junmyeon. Baekhyun heard some technical talk and the alcohol is not helping.

“The skinning puppies part was Kyungsoo,” he gives Chanyeol his best pouting face, letting his inner puppy take the wheel. Chanyeol’s whipped, if his state of ‘should-i-kiss-him-or-should-i-not’ is any indication.

Jongin squeaks at Baekhyun’s words, turning to Kyungsoo quickly in a panic. “Puppies?”

Kyungsoo growls at Baekhyun, mouthing promises of pain and suffering as he tells Jongin he wouldn’t hurt his kids or any other dogs unless they were Byun Baekhyun. 

 

It takes Kyungsoo the whole night to placate Jongin and assure him that he really doesn’t skin puppies. Baekhyun receives a text message from him at three am, after they’ve all gone home.

_Prepare yourself. I’m coming through the window, you piece of shit._

 

“You really are mean,” Chanyeol says, looking at the message over Baekhyun’s shoulder. Baekhyun shifts to look at him and grins. _As if Kyungsoo could climb the fourth floor window._ “You didn’t need to scar the poor kid.”

“He’s already scarred. Are you forgetting he’s dating Kyungsoo?”

“Really, Baek?”

“Alright, alright. I’ll apologize tomorrow morning, after a cup of coffee. Would you let me go to sleep now? Good night.”

“Good night, my Baekhyun.”

 

 

Baekhyun sends an apology message to Jongin the next morning, and a bunch of emojis to piss Kyungsoo off.


End file.
